A chance to fail
by kantellis
Summary: Lavi, Bookman chronicler in training, was sent to record a mafia war. A war, where some strange, special abilities were used. / AU modern


The mafia in his story is the one from Bungou Stray Dogs, however, since they are not an important character, just a background to the story, I decided not to label it as crossover.

If you haven't read BSD it's not a problem - the only thing you need to know is that in the manga there are people with special, superhuman abilities. And I strongly recommend to read it - it's absolutely amazing! There are no spoiler to the manga in this story.

If you read BSD and liked it - it's a special treat in the story =)

All characters belong to their proper creators, the story is mine.

* * *

 **A chance to fail**

" _Even people who have nothing to do with violence will become savages if they have a weapon."_

Lavi cursed again his complete loss for luck when yet another shootout erupted right beside him. What does the damn Old Man think, sending him to a place like this? Wars! He's seen so many of them in his short life but every single one of them had it's rules and schemes. One could, with enough knowledge of conflict strategies and a careful study of the sides involved, foresee the movements and pick a safe place to observe and record it. But this? This was madness! And since when were they recording mafia wars? This one is important, the Old Man said. Important my ass!

Lavi finished packing his recording equipment and made his way away from the mess, keeping his head down. Through the headset he called to his two companions to retreat for now - whatever information they would get now was not worth the risk.

He reached the meeting point long minutes and a few heart attacks later, one of his subordinates already there, looking outright terrified. He was muttering all the time about the dead bodies all over the place and Lavi sighed - he probably looked the same on the first war he recorded. The shock, however, lasted only until the training was finished. After that, there were no feelings for the victims anymore.

Lavi called out to the other subordinate and frowned when he heard static. He called once again, more urgently, but his eye widened when he finally heard the sounds. There was frantic breathing over gunshots. There were hurried footsteps, heavy and erratic. There was a scream and then silence. He counted to ten, waiting, tensed. He heard a soft rustle of a headset being taken off carelessly.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are,' came a cold, sharp hiss.

Lavi reacted without thinking. He ripped off his and his subordinate's headsets and broke them apart before shoving them into his bag. He grabbed his subordinate by the collar and pulled him up strongly. They ran for it down the safe road he found before they got there and didn't stop until they were in the centre of the city. There, they walked around the most crowded streets for about an hour before they finally made it for their hideout. He was pretty sure they were not followed, for now.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

'Gramps, there is nothing unusual in this war, if it's a war at all,' he said with a sigh. 'Mafia does the usual: smuggling, killing, trafficking. Nothing out of the ordinary-'

'Open your eye properly, don't look at the obvious,' his master scolded him over the phone. 'How many times do I have to tell you that before you do it properly?' Lavi pursed his lips instead of replying. 'The mission continues. I'll send over some protection so don't lose another trainee in the meantime.' With that he hung up.

Lavi put down the phone and sat there thinking, arms propped against the table, hands joined together. Easier said than done, Old Man, he mused staring at the trembling, curled up figure of his subordinate.

He was still unsure how they managed to get back. It's not that it slipped his mind in the haste and anxiety, no way. Things didn't slip his mind or eye. Ever. It's just that his body acted on its own without his conscious input, survival skills kicking in with long learnt habits. They were also trained for that, for surviving wars even in the mishap of getting caught up in the midst of it. Bookmen had to survive. Or so they were told. For what? Why were they even recording the history that didn't make into normal books?

He quickly discarded his personal doubts and focused back on his current mission.

Gramps claimed the mafia had something unusual to them, something, that made them worth a record. Did he miss an important detail? For what he saw they were acting quite normal, well, as normal as they could, being who they were. He would probably had to get deeper into the organization to discern what were their habits and customs, who were their executives. Their boss. Only then he'd be able to define their 'normal' for sure. Because, from what he managed to see, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Although, to all honesty, he didn't have much chance to watch them. By strange coincidence, whenever he chose to trail closer after them, shootouts erupted and it ruined all his attempts at observation.

It was a coincidence.

Mafia was meeting with different acquaintances every time he trailed after them so it only meant they were quite an explosive bunch. They made their deals bloody. Or he was just unlucky to pick the failed transactions. They all had the same scheme: a group in suits came in briskly, the leader of the group exchanged some words or items with the other and then something triggered the hell to break lose. Each time it was something else, depending on the leader of a current meetup. Insufficient sum of money, damaged merchandise, wrong response-

Lavi's eye widened. He remembered now very clearly the last incident. Mafia was checking up on one of their shipping locations for the goods that were supposed to arrive from Europe. He heard they were suspecting some of their workers were stealing items to sell themselves and it had to be verified. The dressed up squad entered the warehouse and caught the thieves redhanded. The shootout, however, didn't start right away. Before that, the leader of mafia squad approached one of the thieves and sent him flying backwards with an immense force. With just a light touch.

Mafia has some unusual power that needs to be recorded, gramps said.

Unusual power? More like they have killing machines that walk and think and-

What if it was just one kind of unusual power? What if mafia has people with other powers that are more wicked, more dangerous than simple, brute force? Next time he stalks them, he would pay more attention to how exactly the mafia people work.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

For the next outing Lavi had to go alone - his subordinate still wasn't feeling good enough to face dead bodies again. Or maybe he was too afraid to share the fate of his colleague. To be honest, Lavi was also quite concerned about that, however, the mission had to be completed. There was no way he would come back with no information, especially now that he knew there was something odd about the mafia.

He took a chance to observe the devil's den - mafia's headquarters. It was a tall glass skyscraper in the middle of the city, flanked by four thinner glass buildings. It looked imposing and menacing at the same time and was as hard to enter as a secret military base. But Lavi was not a well trained Bookman for nothing.

From a safe distance he assessed which of the four buildings would be the best to infiltrate. After a short debate with his own mind he chose the one facing the western side of the skyscraper in the centre. He checked all his equipment, took a deep calming breath and went for the entrance.

The lobby was spacious and elegant, minimal in decorations, dark. He approached the desk with a wide charming smile and started taking his way in with the pretty secretary. Through joking, flirting and promising he managed to convince her he had an appointment with the boss and she gave him the visitor's card. The security check proved he really had only journalist's equipment in his bag and he was let through to the elevators with instructions to report to the office on the top floor.

He had an interview prepared, just in case, but he was pretty sure he would not have to do it. The secretary by the boss' office, completely confused, explained that she had no information about a meeting and she had no idea how come the girls at the entrance didn't have the right agenda. Lavi smiled charmingly and said it was no problem and he could make an appointment for another date. It was no pressing matter and he knew she was working hard and she had so many things to deal with and was so great to manage all that. She stared at him bewildered.

'If you'd wait a bit… I could… after the meeting is over I could ask the boss if he had a moment to talk to you,' she stammered, blushing. Lavi smiled softly and whispered "thank you" in a low voice making her blush even more. He let her dwell on it for a moment, stepping away and taking a look around the lobby.

It was bright and light, so different from the one downstairs. It had one wall completely glazed and overlooking the main mafia building. Lavi walked up to the window and took in the breathtaking view of the city below. Everything looked so small from up there, so unimportant. Everything, apart from the skyscraper in front of it.

He felt an unpleasant itch and frowned at the huge glass wall. His eye travelled up the shiny surface, right to the top floor. There, behind the windows, he saw a shadow.

He focused his gaze on it and realized it was actually a man standing there. He was tall and well dressed, a black coat covering his figure despite being indoors. His face, extremely pale against the dark interior, almost glimmered in the midday sunlight. His eyes were gazing down. Directly at Lavi.

He felt his whole body turn cold in a split of a second, frozen on the spot, pinned by the menacing gaze. The man smirked darkly, madly.

A ping of an arriving elevator woke him up from the trance. He knew that whoever was there, they were to get him. His body acted before his mind came up with a conscious plan of escape.

In two long steps he was by the elevator door and he pushed the person coming out back inside, his strength doubled by his momentum. He used the few seconds of surprise he gained to jump towards the escape route, ignoring the strange shadows that shot towards him from the fallen figure. He stormed into the staircase and flew down the steps as fast as he could.

He heard doors open somewhere above and below him and he made another decision in an instant. He exited at the nearest storey and, without stopping, ran down the corridor knowing that there was a service elevator at the end of it.

Seconds it took for the elevator to ascend three storeys stretched for eternity and he registered and remembered every faintest sound that there was: the clink of glass in one of the offices, the hum of a vacuum cleaner above him, the heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs.

The elevator doors slid open soundlessly and he stepped in feeling like he was walking in dense water. The doors closed and the elevator started down. He gazed at the control panel and his eye widened when he realized his mistake - he was going down to the basement parking. Basement. Only one way out. They probably already had it guarded. He let a string of curses leave his lips as he leaned heavily against the elevator's wall. Was there anything he could do in the situation? Did he have any options? His only chance was that they would not shoot him right on the spot. Could he even count on it?

Well shit, however the situation goes, he failed his mission. He failed it big time. Wonder how gramps would deal with it if he was in his place, he mused.

The elevator stopped way too soon. The doors opened way too fast. Lavi looked up impassively at the scene that made the soul, safely tucked away until now, cringe in terror.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

In front of the door five men in suits were standing, pointing their machine guns straight at him. He raised his hands up in surrender and stepped out of the elevator. The men did not move or twitch or react in any way. It was a good sign, he thought, it meant the mafia still wanted him for something. If only to torture the answers out of him. He could go with that.

He stopped a few steps away and waited. One of the guys put down the gun and walked up to him, taking out handcuffs. Levi let him take one arm and bind it, he let him take the other. However, when the guy was about to lock it, he acted. He grabbed the guy by the wrists and pulled him to make a shield against the guns. He took the few steps that divided him from the others and pushed the guy at them. Predictably, they scattered and regrouped but it was too late - Lavi was already hiding between the cars and rushing towards the exit from the parking. He heard them follow but they were at a loss since he changed direction whenever he could and he kept low to keep cover. With those big machine guns they would never shoot, in case they missed and hit cars.

He dared not allow himself a relieved sigh when he noticed the open doors. Just a few steps!

As soon as he passed the last car he ran for it as fast as he could.

He saw a strange reflection of light to the right.

He twisted away from what he supposed would be a blade, however, in the process he lost his balance. He hit the wall hard and fell to one knee in the shock of collision. He turned to face his opponent and studied him cautiously. Approaching him in lazy steps was a samurai. Tall and lean, his black cloak zipped up to the top of his high collar, his long black hair tied up and falling down his back. His dark eyes dangerous, contrasting with a delicate and pretty face. Exceptional.

Lavi twitched when the gate started moving down. The samurai seemed to ignore it completely, not changing his pace. Not rising the blade, either, which was curious. Whatever the reasons, though, he made his move without waiting for the other to get closer.

The gate was already half closed when he threw himself to the ground and rolled under it outside. He got up immediately and ran for his life not looking back. He knew they probably wouldn't give him another chance.

He slowed down only when he was near the shopping centre of the city. He took a few turns left and right and soon found himself in the huge entertainment complex next to the port, ferris wheel towering over it. He let the crowd swallow him and on his way he took off the wig he was wearing and his jacket and he stuffed both into his bag. Soon after that he mixed into the group of customers at a food stall. He ate scanning the crowd, keeping his back covered. He saw two people that had the mafia air about them but their eyes slipped past him like they did to all other people around. Maybe his face was not yet forwarded to all the members. Maybe he would make it through the night.

He returned to his flat only in the evening and what he saw there crushed all the hopes he may have had a few hours ago.

The whole flat was turned upside down, every shelf emptied, every drawer thrown out. He pursed his lips knowing he would not find his subordinate in the mess. Well shit.

He discarded the heavy bag, taking only memory cards from the cameras. He packed a light backpack with all necessities and left without further ado. He seriously planned to make it straight for the airport and away. Tough luck. This mission was finished. It was no point risking anything anymore.

He ran down the stairs and out of the building. He started down the street swiftly, carefully keeping an eye on his surroundings.

He almost jumped out of his skin when his phone rang and it did nothing to cease his anxiety when he saw an unknown number. With a sinking feeling he picked it up.

'Mister stalker, we have something that is yours,' came a calm and low voice. 'We wish to exchange it for all the information you gathered on us.'

'What if I'm not interested?' he asked not missing a beat and heard a pain-filled cry in the back. He winced at that knowing he really had no choice. He could only hope his head would make it out intact so he could pass his own memories to the Bookmen.

'We will get it the hard way.'

'Where should I come?'

'Old main port building, you have an hour.' The connection closed. Lavi stopped right there in the middle of the street and exhaled deeply. For a moment he considered calling gramps and relaying the situation but he discarded the idea quickly - if they had his number they could track his calls. He took aim at the nearby wall and tossed the phone with all his strength. It smashed into tiny pieces and scattered around in sharp rain. He fished out the SIM card and ground it against the wall until it was utterly destroyed. With a sigh he started in the direction of the port.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

He took his time getting there, fully aware he was followed from around half the way. He saw the figures lurking in the shadows, he saw them move along with him. None, however, did anything to intercept his stroll and approach him in any way.

When he entered the port area he even noticed two sharp light reflection on the rooftops nearby - snipers, no doubt about it. He put big red dots on the escape plan in his head and stepped into the ruined, burnt building that was once used as port headquarters.

On the first floor he was greeted with a clink of machine guns unlocked, all five aimed straight at him. What a nice welcome, he thought. Sighing, he took his hands out of pockets and raised them in surrender, the handcuffs still hanging from one of the wrists and clanging as he moved. Who did they think he was anyway?

Apart from the armed men in suits there were two more people in the place. The elderly man in a long coat that he remembered from one of the previous stalks, the one that sent his opponents flying at a touch. There was also his subordinate, bound, gagged, kneeling on the floor next to the mafioso, looking even more terrified than before. Lavi pursed his lips when he looked at him, knowing the guy would not get over the experience and would not pass the training. It was a pity, he was very promising. That, however, was not a reason to leave him there. He could still be of some help to the clan.

The elderly mafioso, without a word, motioned to hand over the materials they wanted. Slowly, Lavi lowered his hands and took off the backpack. He kneeled and opened it, all but ignoring the nervous twitching of gunmen. He took out all the memory cards he had and all the materials he received before coming here. He walked up the the man slowly and gave him everything.

'Is that all?' the mafioso asked staring at him with his piercing, calm gaze and got a nod in reply. 'Who do you work for?' Lavi winced.

'We're not a threat for you. We just-' he stopped when he heard guns click behind him, his eye widening. What the hell?

Mafioso's gaze flicked behind him and then back at him, a suspicious frown meeting his surprised gaze.

'Give back the two hostages,' came a muffled voice from behind and Lavi understood: Old Man's backup. Why the hell did they show up now?! They'd ruin-

His thoughts stopped when he saw the mafioso move. Like in slow motion, he saw him lift his hand. He saw it aimed at his chest. He knew what would happen next and he knew it would hurt like hell.

Lavi took one step back and it was all he could in the incredibly short time he had to react. The mafioso's hand reached him anyway and then he was flying backwards with immense power. He passed the line of uninvited backup, watched them scatter to the sides in surprise. He watched both sides open fire at each other, mafia with a better start that gave them advantage. He watched the bullets fly in every direction but then everything went black as he hit the wall and fell to the ground.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

His senses came back to the deafening sounds of the shootout, flashes of light from the guns and the smell of gunpowder. He looked up at the blurred scenery and blinked his vision to focus.

His eye widened when he saw his subordinate get up to escape from the middle of the chaos. He saw him stumble right away. He saw the body start to fall but then it jerked forward from a bullet. And then it was shoved back and forth from more bullets. And then it fell limply to the ground and the shootout continued. And he stared where the pain-twisted face have just been.

His numbness was broken when a body fell right next to him. He turned his empty gaze at man and he lifted himself on the elbows to check for pulse, although the number of crimson holes was as good as a proof he'd find none. His gaze slipped down the bloodied body and it stopped at a gun strapped to the belt. He reached towards it and took it.

The shooting stopped and the echos of it died away.

His body didn't tremble when he lifted himself to the kneeling position. His hand, holding the gun for the first time in his life, didn't shake at all. He got up from the ground and gazed calmly at the mafia people aiming now at him. He saw them twitch when they noticed the gun. He gave them no time to think.

The sound of shots that came from the gun in his hand reverberated strangely in his ears. They were like an echo of some long ended explosions that came back when the bullets tore the air, aiming for the gunmen. He saw them not really meeting the mark.

Fourth bullet never left the barrel that was cut into pieces with a swish of air and a flash of light. Lavi saw, with a corner of his eye, a deadly blade aim at his arm. He lowered it to his side and twisted away from the sabre's path. He tripped over his own feet and started falling down. He felt a hit at his head that accelerated the fall and he blacked out before he even hit the ground.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Lavi regained consciousness feeling incredible pain in every inch of his body, the biggest in his arms. He groaned breathlessly and dared opening his eye a little.

He blinked the dimly lit surroundings into focus, noticing he was in some dirty, spacious basement. He trembled at the sudden wave of cold air and only then he realized the awkward position of his body. He gazed up his arms to see them chained to the wall above his head. He pulled his body up, hissing in pain, to stand on his feet and lessen the weight from his arms. He breathed out deeply, trembling from the effort, biting down the whine that threatened to escape his lips.

He froze on spot when he saw a movement to his left. He saw the blade cut the air and stop at the base of his neck, between his collar bones. His gaze travelled up the blade and stopped at the dark, cold eyes that bore into him with contempt. Their staring match lasted a few long heartbeats.

The blade moved and Lavi felt its coldness as it travelled up his right cheek. He tensed when it tugged at the eyepatch, expecting the worst, but nothing like that happened. The sharp edge cut the bands keeping the eyepatch in place and it fell down from his eye. The chilly air on his usually covered skin felt weird and made him shiver lightly.

'Boss says you have a special ability. Show it,' the swordsman asked in a low, sharp voice. The words made him remember what the old man said when he asked why he was to take the mission and not somebody more experienced:

" _The mafia won't kill you if they catch you. Your abilities will be valuable to them so they will try to get you alive at first. It that happens, you will gather first hand information on the mafia."_

You got it your way, gramps.

He locked his gaze with the dark eyes and slowly opened his right eye. With perfect accuracy he watched the dark eyes widened a fraction and the swordsman shivered so lightly that no normal person would notice it. His sword hand twitched before he moved the blade away from his face and he took a step back. In his eyes he saw an uneasiness that was fast covered up with indifference. He moved fast, but not fast for his sight not to follow.

The tip of a blade was aimed straight at his right eye. The moment it moved forward Lavi tilted his head to the left and the katana missed him by millimeters, embedding into the wall behind his back. The swordsman scoffed displeased and took back his weapon. He took another aim and swished his katana to right and left, cutting through the cuffs that wrapped Lavi's wrists. He watched the perspective in front of him change as he fell to his knees, his body unable to support him for now. He closed his right eye, dulling the extreme vision he had. He heard himself breathe heavily, exhausted.

'Follow me,' he heard somewhat muffled over the hum of blood rushing through his body and obeyed the order, even though he swayed slightly as he got up and walked.

By the time they exited the glass elevator at the top of the highest glass skyscraper in the city he was pretty steady on his feet. When they entered the dark office his head was well arranged and ready for whatever would come. When his gaze fell onto the pale man in a black cloak that he saw briefly before he was confident in his situation. They stared at each other and before the other could speak up, Lavi opened his right eye. The eye with a golden iris. The core of his ability.

The man's eyes widened just barely and then he laughed delighted. Evil.

That day Lavi, Bookman chronicler in training, started his career in mafia.


End file.
